


Kinky Bots Doing Kinky Things

by eerian_sadow



Series: kink, kink and smut [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bondage, D/s, Dominance and Submission, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fingering, First Time Together, Fisting, Kink, M/M, Sounding, Sticky Sex, Tentacles, Voyeurism, multiple overloads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of kinky scenes between several couples.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Optimus/Elita

**Author's Note:**

> as it say on the tin (or in the tags) this is a bunch of kink scenes. dunno where they've come from or why this week was the time.

She groaned as his hand slid inside, stretching the lining of her valve and rubbing along every sensory node she had. Nothing had ever prepared her for how full it would feel, or how incredibly wonderful. She overloaded as he curled his hand into a fist, crying out her pleasure into their berth. He pulled his hand back, changing the sensation across her sensors, and triggering a second overload.

"How many times will you overload for me tonight, Elita?" Optimus asked, voice filled with arousal.

"I don't know!" She gasped as he slid his hand back into her valve, fist still clenched. A third overload threatened as her valve lining stretched around him again.

"Then let's find out." He turned his hand, twisting it so that his fist dragged across the most sensitive of her nodes all at the same time.

Elita-1 screamed as she fell into another overload.


	2. Blaster/Tracks

Blaster bent over, pressing his chest to the floor and craning his head to look at his soon-to-be lover. Then he reached between his legs with his right arm and put two fingers into his valve. Tracks' ventilation hitched as the red mech spread his fingers, pulling the edges of his valve open and exposing the mesh and sensors inside.

"Blaster..." The blue mech's codpiece slid open, allowing his spike to pressurize.

"C'mon, Tracks. Let's play."


	3. Inferno/Firestar

Inferno watched with a sort of horrified fascination as Firestar slid the cheerfully glowing rod into the tip of her spike. It was probably the kinkiest thing he had ever seen her do, but judging by her pleased groans as the rod slid down into her transfluid channel, it felt amazing.

"Inferno!" The femme stopped sliding the rod downward and stared at him. "Stop staring and put your spike in me."

"But you're putting on such a nice show, darling," the mech purred, crawling closer to her. "Thought I was supposed to watch it."

"I want to feel what it's like to have your spike in me at the same time as this sound."

Okay, that was the kinkiest thing he had ever heard from her. But who was he to deny a femme's needs? He moved between her legs and lined his spike up with her valve.

Her pleased groan as he slid in was almost enough to make him overload. "Oh, Primus, yes! Oh Primus, it's perfect! Don't stop!"


	4. Beachcomber/Tentacle Monster

Beachcomber sighed contentedly as the tentacles roamed over his frame. He'd seen what the "monster" had done to his companions, but it was really very gentle and non-threatening when it wasn't being assaulted. It was even fairly attentive, adjusting it's grip on him when he slid out of his comfortable spot and making sure his venting systems were clear so that he didn't overheat.

And the tentacles!

They were everywhere, touching and caressing. They stroked his plating and teased his cables. The thinnest appendages even slipped carefully under his armor to tease directly at his sensory network, sending waves of pure bliss through his entire frame. The creature had brought him to several strong overloads already, and was clearly preparing him for another.

He wondered if he was being rewarded for his good behavior, or if the tentacled creature was sapient enough to think of things like rewards. Then it slid a thick tentacle into his port and Beachcomber forgot how to think as his processor and sensory network were swamped with pleasure.


	5. Ironhide/Chromia+Bluestreak

"Can I watch?"

The words catalyzed something in Ironhide's interface drive and he looked to his partner to gauge her reaction. Chromia shrugged one shoulder, pretending she didn't care and smiling the secret smile she used when they had discovered a particularly enjoyable berthroom activity.

"Sure, youngling," the red mech smiled. "Long as that's all you do."

"I promise!" Bluestreak agreed eagerly. "I only really like to watch, anyway."

"I think this may be the start of a _wonderful_ relationship, then." Chromia purred, smile widening.


	6. Megatron/Soundwave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this installment is for caius major. hope you enjoy!

Soundwave watched warily as Megatron knelt down between his feet. Even in this position the warlord was tall, though he no longer towered over the symbiote carrier, and that was enough to induce nervousness in the staunchest of mechs. The communication specialist was loyal to his leader, and certainly trusted him, but he would be a fool to disregard the danger. 

His wary observation turned to surprise when the grey mech removed a cloth and a small container of cleaning solvent from his subspace compartment. The blue mech said nothing, simply wachting and waiting to take his cues from Megatron. 

The larger mech applied a generous amount of solvent to the cloth, then laid the cloth against the communication specialist's right foot. Carefully, Megatron began rubing the solvent over the plating, loosening the grime and grit that had accumulated there over the course of several cycles. The warlord covered the entire foot, even taking care to clean the traction grooves on the soles. 

Soundwave felt no small amount of curiosity for why his lord was performing such an act of servitude as Megatron shifted his attention to his left foot, but he continued to remain silent. If Megatron wanted him to understand, he would tell him in his own time. 

The same careful strokes were applied to his left foot, and Soundwave had to fight down the urge to squirm as the attention triggered his dormant interface protocols. If Megatron noticed, he gave no sign. 

Once the worst of the grime was loosened and wiped away, the grey mech removed a clean cloth from his subspace and poured more of the cleaning solvent on it. He ran the fresh cloth over the communication specialist's feet for a second cleaning, removing the last of the filth and leaving the plating clear of debris. Then Megatron picked up his cleaning supplies and stood, as if washing his subordinate's feet was a completely normal occurance. 

Soundwave could not recall the last time such a simple act had left him as aroused as he was curious, and he wondered if Megatron's odd display of submission was the cause. 

"Are you well, Soundwave?" the warlord asked, picking up on some unspoken cue that no other mech would have detected. 

"Confused, Lord Megatron." Honesty was always the best course with his superior, as Starscream's backstabbing ways had taught all the other Decepticons. 

"You find it odd that someone in my position would lower themselves to washing another's feet?" 

Soundwave nodded. "Odd, but enjoyable." 

"A true leader must remember even the most minor needs of his followers," Megatron said. "And if both parties enjoy such care, all the better." 

"Lord Megatron enjoys servitude?" The very idea was enough to create a logic error in his processing centers. 

"Only in controlled situations and with mechs I trust completely." the grey mech stowed the supplies in his subspace and leaned down toward the blue mech's face. 

"Soundwave is honored." Soundwave took Megatron's non-verbal cue and retracted his mask. Even if his lord's intent was not to kiss him, it was fair to reciprocate his trust. 

"Excellent." The warlord closed the remaining distance and pressed their lips together. The communication specialist hummed with pleasure, and felt his unexpected desire flare up higher.


	7. Smokescreen/Chromia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not really kinky or smutty, unless you're into light flirting and overt come-ons. if you are, this is for you!
> 
> this bit is also for vejiraziel.

Smokescreen stared in shock at the femme across the table from him. Chromia smirked back at him.

The gambler looked down at his game pieces, over to hers and then back up. The warrior kept that same, satisfied smirk on her face.

"How did you...?"

"You're not the only bot on the base who knows how to gamble, hotshot." Chromia's smirk widened. "And I have plenty of practice, even against tactical models like you."

Smokescreen's shock at losing turned to irritation. She hadn't done _that_ much better than he had. "Fine. Best two out of three, then."

"You might as well save time and just hand over your credits now." Despite her words, the femme swept the game chips back into their bag and shook them.

"Oh no," the mech replied. "This time I'm taking your credits."

"And then I suppose you'll want to take me to your room after your sound victory?" Chromia held out the bag and let him draw the first piece.

"Well, I'd have to be blind and dead not to want to try," Smokescreen confessed, looking at the face of his chip. "But I'm willing to take no for an answer."

The warrior drew her first chip and looked at gave him another of those confident smirks. "Well, you put your credits where your mouth is and we'll see. It's been a while since I did anything with a Praxian."


	8. Elita-1/Ultra Mgnus

“Hm.” The femme’s hum was thoughtful, considering the mech on the floor. Her optics looked him over carefully, taking in the way the ropes pulled his thighs apart (she would have to ask Chromia who had tied him later; the knotwork was superb) and the way his lips spread around the gag in his mouth. But most enticing of all was the long, thick spike extended to its full length and shining with lubricant. “When I came back from the Praxus Ruins, I didn’t expect to find such a lovely gift.”

Ultra Magnus whined, but didn't break from whatever prearranged script he had worked out with the others to surprise her.

Elita-1 smiled at the sound. She loved hearing her sometimes lover sound so needy. “What should I do with you, Magnus? It's so tempting to leave you just like that, get myself off and cover you in my transfluid.”

The blue and white mech growled softly at that idea.

“No? Well, my dearest, I don't think you're really in much of a position to make demands.” she tapped one finger on her bottom lip. “Then again, your spike is clearly ready for use. And I do love how it fills me. Would you like it if I rode your spike until I came, Magnus?”

Ultra Magnus nodded.

“And if I wanted to do it again? Even if you've already overloaded?”

The larger mech groaned and nodded again.

“All right.” Elita circled him, examining the ropes before getting started. When she was back in front of him, the femme put one hand in the middle of Magnus’ chest and pushed.

The big mech bent backward as she pushed, ropes forcing him to bow in a tight arc. Elita-1 paused for a moment and save an image capture. She would always want to look back and see this powerful mech giving her all of his trust.

Then she straddled him, careful of damaging him or his spike. “Are you ready? “

She's could just make out the mechs nod. Once she had permission, she reached back to hold the spike steady before sinking slowly onto it.


	9. Beachcomber/Alien Ambassador

“Ohhh, please!” Beachcomber groaned into the ground and tried to thrust onto the tentacle teasing at his valve. He was already wet and aching with desire, and he knew he wanted to feel the appendage sliding inside.

His partner chittered softly at him, but he was so lost in _want_ that the blue mech wasn't entirely sure what they said. Beachcomber thought there was something about patience and size, but he wasn't sure.

“Ah, please! Frag me already! I can take it!” The minibot tried to spread his legs wider, to entice his companion into his valve, but two of their tentacles held his knees firmly in place, forcing him to do nothing more than sway slightly. 

His partner said something else, sounding slightly amused. Then they brought another tentacle up to his valve and flicked it over the cluster of sensors just inside.

Beachcomber wailed with pleasure at _finally_ receiving some kind of real stimulation. Then his companion moved the tentacle away from the sensors and he whined at the loss.

“Beachcomber.” The sound of his name--so oddly similar in both Cybertronian and his partner’s language--made him look up and over his shoulder at them. The leaves on their face were rippling in the way he had learned meant concern, and he forced himself to focus and bring his translation protocols back online.

“What's wrong?”

“I hurt you.”

“No! I promise you didn't. That felt amazing.” The blue mech grinned. “You're really good at this.”

“You sounded hurt.” Their leaved folded down flat and the tentacles slid away from his knees and valve. “I think I am not so good at this and you are flattering me.”

“That's not my style at all.” Once the tentacles were far enough away that he could turn without crushing them, he did. Then he crawled to his partner and pulled himself carefully onto the cluster of tentacles that formed their lap. “You had me so far gone, just from denying me what I wanted, that I forgot how to translate your language. You were making me feel better than I have in vorns.”

“You are truly not saying this just to make me feel better?” shyly, a pair of tentacles slid up his legs and coiled around his thighs. “Or to prevent a… diplomatic incident?”

“No way.” Beachcomber leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently along the leaves of his partner's face. “I was really having fun, and I'd love to get back to it, if you're still in the mood.”

“...Yes. but we will go so slowly that your translation program will not be all you forget before I finally penetrate you.”

Beachcomber groaned. “Oh frag yes!”


End file.
